I saw my neurosurgeon last week. He was pleased with my progress ... very pleased. Score 1 for me :)
I was expecting the visit to be just a conversation ... how are you doing, how's it going, how's physio, are you working yet, and maybe a quick walk around his office. Well, ... no. He wanted to do a series of tests to see where my strength/abilities are. That, in itself is fine, but it involved the absence of jeans and socks and the wearing of a paper gown.
I'm used to that (and more) with my family doctor, but this is my neurosurgeon ... a fatherly kind of gentleman, who is not hip/sick/hot in the least! Intellectually I understand that he saw most things that there were to see during surgery, but I was out cold for that. So when he left the room saying "take off your jeans and socks" I did the mental inventory of "what am I wearing today". While paper gowns are not glamourous, it was fine, and apparently I'm doing very well considering the extent of the surgery I had. All I can say, though ... is thank goodness I chose to wear granny panties and not some lacy scrap of a thing that day !!
I went from my neurosurgeon, across the street to the hospital to visit with my physiotherapists and any nurses that might remember me from rehab. As I walked into the hospital and through to the rehab unit, I realized that I had never actually walked those halls ... my coffee runs to the coffee shop had always been in a wheelchair, and I left in a wheelchair. It was an interesting mix of surreal and nostalgic.
My rehab physio guy no longer works there because he got into medical school. I was sorry to miss him and pleased for his success. But the killer guy ... the guy who made me stand on a leg I didn't know I had (see Use the Force Luke), was there and remembered me. It was nice to be able to say "look where I am now and I couldn't have done this without you".
And ... wait for it ... I hugged a nurse :) The guy who plopped himself in my room and told me his life story (the "why not to date a supermodel" guy).
Going back made me realize how far I've come since May 31st, and how much the people there started me on my road to recovery. They change lives and I'm grateful.
Sunday, 23 September 2012
Friday, 14 September 2012
Fifty Shades Faster: Day 4 vs Day 135
The technology of the modern era has given us video ... while sometimes a bad thing (think misbehaviour caught by a friend's cell phone) it can also be a good thing.
I thought I would take a moment and post two videos. The first one taken on day 4 after my surgery, and it is my first attempt at "walking" with full weight bearing. Without video, I would never have seen myself, and to be honest, how it felt was not how it looked.
The second video was taken this morning - day 135 after my surgery. There has been no nerve healing in my right leg, so any progress is due solely to my own stubborn drive and the skill of my physiotherapist(s). I will be forever grateful for the men (and interestingly, they've all been men) who decided that physiotherapy was the career for them. They change lives.
It felt like I was running a million miles an hour, but really it was only a 10:45 minute mile (6:40 min km), and only for 1/4 mile (400 meter) intervals. And Fifty Shades was supporting some of my body weight. I'm not ready for the world to see the video of me trying to run without support :)
But if there's anyone out there who is thinking of giving up, wondering if the work is worth it, wanting to just hop under the covers and stay there ... it's worth it. Many, if not most, of the moments suck, no one can see pain, and it feels like there's no progress. But there is. 134 days ago I would have told you that walking is Herculean enough, no need to dream about running again. Today ... I'm not so sure.
I thought I would take a moment and post two videos. The first one taken on day 4 after my surgery, and it is my first attempt at "walking" with full weight bearing. Without video, I would never have seen myself, and to be honest, how it felt was not how it looked.
The second video was taken this morning - day 135 after my surgery. There has been no nerve healing in my right leg, so any progress is due solely to my own stubborn drive and the skill of my physiotherapist(s). I will be forever grateful for the men (and interestingly, they've all been men) who decided that physiotherapy was the career for them. They change lives.
It felt like I was running a million miles an hour, but really it was only a 10:45 minute mile (6:40 min km), and only for 1/4 mile (400 meter) intervals. And Fifty Shades was supporting some of my body weight. I'm not ready for the world to see the video of me trying to run without support :)
But if there's anyone out there who is thinking of giving up, wondering if the work is worth it, wanting to just hop under the covers and stay there ... it's worth it. Many, if not most, of the moments suck, no one can see pain, and it feels like there's no progress. But there is. 134 days ago I would have told you that walking is Herculean enough, no need to dream about running again. Today ... I'm not so sure.
Friday, 7 September 2012
Fifty Shades of Physio
Who knew I'd get to be all harnessed up for a physio appointment ... there's some fun to be had with that !
Physio guy has decided it's time to run.
I'm all over the idea of running. Heck, I can barely walk, but I'm game to try to run! Running has a totally different leg stride than walking, so it is actually a very different physio exercise. But how do you teach someone to run who can't even hop with one leg?
The answer ... Fify Shades of Physio
This funky and cool treadmill (that's not me on it) allows the harness to hold your weight while the patient tries to learn the stride. No worries about falling, weight bearing, ankle or knee twisting, or any other bad thing. I will admit to a little social awkwardness as I was putting on the harness, with help. I did manage to avoid making any wise-ass comments about "are you sure we know each other well enough for this", and was waiting for him to ask "do you trust me". I mean, I like him as a physio guy, but he's really not my type (not to mention he's probably 20 years younger than me, and I am so not his type!).
It was, so far, my weirdest physio experience. My legs had no idea what to do, my brain got frustrated because IT knew what to do but my legs weren't cooperating, and the proprioception issues extend up to my waist, so maintaining a forward facing position was almost impossible.
I'd say, not bad for a first time effort.
Update: Today was attempt number 2 and I did it! It was awesome! I could only handle 3 minutes at a time, with significant rest in between, and I only got up to a 13:30 minute mile pace (which is very slow), but it was the most liberating feeling and I think everyone in the place could tell I was over-the-moon excited.
Physio guy has decided it's time to run.
I'm all over the idea of running. Heck, I can barely walk, but I'm game to try to run! Running has a totally different leg stride than walking, so it is actually a very different physio exercise. But how do you teach someone to run who can't even hop with one leg?
The answer ... Fify Shades of Physio
This funky and cool treadmill (that's not me on it) allows the harness to hold your weight while the patient tries to learn the stride. No worries about falling, weight bearing, ankle or knee twisting, or any other bad thing. I will admit to a little social awkwardness as I was putting on the harness, with help. I did manage to avoid making any wise-ass comments about "are you sure we know each other well enough for this", and was waiting for him to ask "do you trust me". I mean, I like him as a physio guy, but he's really not my type (not to mention he's probably 20 years younger than me, and I am so not his type!).It was, so far, my weirdest physio experience. My legs had no idea what to do, my brain got frustrated because IT knew what to do but my legs weren't cooperating, and the proprioception issues extend up to my waist, so maintaining a forward facing position was almost impossible.
I'd say, not bad for a first time effort.
Update: Today was attempt number 2 and I did it! It was awesome! I could only handle 3 minutes at a time, with significant rest in between, and I only got up to a 13:30 minute mile pace (which is very slow), but it was the most liberating feeling and I think everyone in the place could tell I was over-the-moon excited.
Thursday, 6 September 2012
Honey, You Deserved that Body Check
It might not have been a full-on NHL body check, but it was pretty good for a crippled chick.
Starting back to work means getting to and from work, which for me, is a commuter train.
The morning commute is easy ... I am at the top of the line, so the train is there when I get to the station. I just hop on (HA! "hop" .. right), grab a seat and wait for the train to leave. Arrival downtown is a bit of a madhouse but it's generally okay because the masses of humanity are all moving in the same direction and everyone knows where they're going. No one doing anything stupid. It's early in the morning, people are focussed on getting to work or getting their first cup of coffee, and no one is in a maniac-craze to get anywhere in the next 20 seconds.
Home is a different story. Home involves tourists or other such sundry out on the streets - gazing around at the scenery, confused about where they're going, making sudden stops and interrupting the pedestrian flow. But the fun of all fun is the train station.
The regulars on my train are orderly folk. They know where the train is going to arrive, where the doors are going to be, and even though the train hasn't arrived yet, they line up in a nice fashionable paired queue ... one side of the line heading for the upstairs of the car, the other side of the line heading for the downstairs of the car. They are also courteous enough to allow a gap between the start of the lineups and the edge of the platform so that people can walk to the line up for the car they want.
It starts to get interesting when you are walking the platform when the train pulls in ... you are walking in a meter-wide "aisle" between a mass of humanity and a moving train. For me, the walk involves the people on my left (aka my "good side" with the cane) and the moving train on my right (aka, my "bad side"). Now generally, people are very good ... they see me coming, they give me space, they wait for me to pass, they walk widely around me.
Not so much yesterday. Yesterday, a woman (I'll call her that out of politeness) decided to be a social idiot. She was waiting in line, I was walking with the train moving to my right, and just as I was about to pass her, she looked up, looked at me and stepped out in front of me. Not fully in front totally blocking my path, but enough in front that an able bodied person would have had to sharply veer to avoid hitting her.
I am not able bodied. And I'll play the cripple card all day long. I have no regrets about leaning, hard, into her as I passed her. She's lucky I didn't take a swing at her with my cane (hmm ... cause that probably would have been assault).
I didn't look back. And I might have smiled :)
Starting back to work means getting to and from work, which for me, is a commuter train.
The morning commute is easy ... I am at the top of the line, so the train is there when I get to the station. I just hop on (HA! "hop" .. right), grab a seat and wait for the train to leave. Arrival downtown is a bit of a madhouse but it's generally okay because the masses of humanity are all moving in the same direction and everyone knows where they're going. No one doing anything stupid. It's early in the morning, people are focussed on getting to work or getting their first cup of coffee, and no one is in a maniac-craze to get anywhere in the next 20 seconds.
Home is a different story. Home involves tourists or other such sundry out on the streets - gazing around at the scenery, confused about where they're going, making sudden stops and interrupting the pedestrian flow. But the fun of all fun is the train station.
The regulars on my train are orderly folk. They know where the train is going to arrive, where the doors are going to be, and even though the train hasn't arrived yet, they line up in a nice fashionable paired queue ... one side of the line heading for the upstairs of the car, the other side of the line heading for the downstairs of the car. They are also courteous enough to allow a gap between the start of the lineups and the edge of the platform so that people can walk to the line up for the car they want.
It starts to get interesting when you are walking the platform when the train pulls in ... you are walking in a meter-wide "aisle" between a mass of humanity and a moving train. For me, the walk involves the people on my left (aka my "good side" with the cane) and the moving train on my right (aka, my "bad side"). Now generally, people are very good ... they see me coming, they give me space, they wait for me to pass, they walk widely around me.
Not so much yesterday. Yesterday, a woman (I'll call her that out of politeness) decided to be a social idiot. She was waiting in line, I was walking with the train moving to my right, and just as I was about to pass her, she looked up, looked at me and stepped out in front of me. Not fully in front totally blocking my path, but enough in front that an able bodied person would have had to sharply veer to avoid hitting her.
I am not able bodied. And I'll play the cripple card all day long. I have no regrets about leaning, hard, into her as I passed her. She's lucky I didn't take a swing at her with my cane (hmm ... cause that probably would have been assault).
I didn't look back. And I might have smiled :)
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